About Jason Thibeault

Hi! I'm a tech guy, skeptic, feminist, gamer and atheist, and love OSS and science of all stripes. I enjoy a good bit of whargarbl now and again, and will occasionally even seek it out. I am also apparently responsible for the death of common sense on the internet. My bad.

I have opinions. So do you. You want to share them with me. I would like to do likewise. Please don't expect a platform for proselytizing that will go unchecked and unchallenged, though. Contact me via the clicky thingies under my banner.

The commenting rules are simple: don't piss me off. This rule has worked for me for a decade; I have never found a need for any other rule, because any other rules leads to rules-lawyering. Just remember -- this is my property, not yours.

CONvergence: Doctor Who fan repairs his timeline

I’m going to try to write about a few of the thousands of little interactions I had while attending the SkepchickCON science/skepticism track at Minnesota’s annual CONvergence — the continent’s largest entirely fan-run sci-fi/fantasy/fandom convention. This year’s convention had just shy of six thousand attendees, and practically every panel in the Skepchick track, in convention rooms that seated ~125-150, was packed and in many cases standing-room-only.

During a convention of this size, you overhear lots of conversations about lots of different things, most mundane, but some truly interesting. During a group lunch, I learned the tale of a man who, eighteen years ago, missed a chance to meet Sophie Aldred — Ace, one of the Doctor Who companions of the 7th Doctor. He had gotten an aluminum baseball bat of the same style as Ace’s signature, and though he had it at a convention where Aldred was doing signings, was too shy to ask.
At the end of the convention, during the very last panel, Sophie Aldred — the guest of honour at this year’s convention — was doing her last of several signings. As the line began to wane, I approached the table to chat with her handler about this story.

The man who’d earlier missed his opportunity to have Ace sign his bat, eighteen years later rectified the missed opportunity. Just twenty minutes before I spoke with Aldred’s handler, he’d brought the bat and had it signed.

Knowing what it’s like to fail to follow through on opportunities and regret them for a very long time, this story made me incredibly happy.

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About the author

Hi! I'm a tech guy, skeptic, feminist, gamer and atheist, and love OSS and science of all stripes. I enjoy a good bit of whargarbl now and again, and will occasionally even seek it out. I am also apparently responsible for the death of common sense on the internet. My bad.

I have opinions. So do you. You want to share them with me. I would like to do likewise. Please don't expect a platform for proselytizing that will go unchecked and unchallenged, though. Contact me via the clicky thingies under my banner.

The commenting rules are simple: don't piss me off. This rule has worked for me for a decade; I have never found a need for any other rule, because any other rules leads to rules-lawyering. Just remember -- this is my property, not yours.

Ace was my favourite assistant, although I was only nine when she appeared in Doctor Who, so I didn’t have a huge frame of reference.

I wore my hair like Ace, and desperately wanted a bomber jacket. I had a massive crush on. her.

My partner’s six year’s older than me, and she’d had a thing for Peri. You can imagine how chuffed we were to meet Nicola and Sophie last year.

They’re both lovely, Sophie did her talk and signings despite having a terrible cold. Nicola is so tiny, and probably looks younger than me or my girlfriend! That’s artron energy for ya.

My nine year old self, raised by evangelicals (and therefore deeply unhappy) and generally having a shit life, would have died of ecstatic screaming at the thought of meeting Colin and the ladies on the same day.

That sad kid hung on, came out, met the geeky love of her life, threw off those damned Jesusy shackles, and lives the dream.

Sure, I’ve got problems and restrictions of the kind that come up in pub debates like “If X happened to you would you kill yourself?”. but I don’t have fucking religion telling me it’s my fault/it’s just a test, not anymore. So it’s totally worth it.